His Mate

Ronan slipped away quietly, careful not to attract his family's attention. He knew his father would disapprove of him following the enemies back to their territory, but he wasn't about to let them off the hook so easily. The thrill of the hunt called to him, and he was determined to see it through.

Moving stealthily, Ronan blended into the shadows, making sure to avoid detection. He didn't want to start any conflict just yet; his goal was to gather information and gauge the enemy's strength.

He quickly surveyed the area. The territory wasn't large, and there didn't seem to be many werewolves around. This gave him a distinct advantage.

Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts. "Hey you, what are you doing here?"

Ronan tensed. He had been spotted. With a carefree grin, he turned to face the voice. The man who confronted him appeared to be on patrol, having noticed Ronan sniffing around.

"You don't belong here," the man said, his tone firm.

Ronan faced the patrol wolf with a smirk. "Oh, you don't think so?" he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. He straightened his back and walked toward the man with deliberate grace.

The patrol wolf's eyes widened in recognition. "Y… you. You're one of the Ashbourne brothers, aren't you? From the rival pack? Did you follow us here?" he snarled.

Ronan's smirk widened. "Oh look, somebody's brain suddenly started to work again."

"Why are you here?" the man demanded.

"For revenge, of course. Do you really think you can come, destroy our property, hurt our wolves, and expect us not to retaliate?" Ronan snarled.

"Then where are the rest of you? Why didn't they follow you here?" the patrol wolf raged. "We already backed out of the fight and left you after admitting defeat. What more do you want?"

"Blood. I want more of your blood," Ronan hissed. "I don't need the others. I'm strong enough to take on ten of you with my bare hands. If I bring them, it'll be too easy to destroy you. And that's simply not fun for me. I'd like a little bit of a challenge."

The patrol wolf scoffed. "I've always heard about your arrogance. Now I'm witnessing it myself. What luck! Do you want to fight? Then let's fight," he said, starting to shift.

Ronan watched with detached amusement, letting the wolf complete his transformation before shifting himself. He knew this wouldn't be entertaining— it would take him less than two minutes to send this wolf flying across the city.

[Ronan, you're making a rash decision again. The Alpha won't be happy about this,] his wolf growled within him.

[I don't care about his opinion anymore. If we had done this from the start, they wouldn't treat us like outsiders,] Ronan barked back.

The patrol wolf roared and lunged at him. Ronan grabbed him by the neck and flung him into the air. The wolf crashed through a window, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces. Ronan heard distant yelling and smiled. The others had been alerted. Now, the real fun could begin.

And fun it was.

Ronan stomped through the chaos, obliterating everything in his path. He showed no mercy. The thrill of death surged through him, fueling his primal instincts. He reveled in the destruction, embracing his role as a beast. It was how he'd always believed werewolves should act—hunting, not wasting time on trivial human tasks.

He let out a bloodcurdling howl as he smashed another werewolf into the ground. Some fought back fiercely, but he couldn't spot their Alpha. Was the leader so terrified of him that he had abandoned his own pack? It was pathetic.

After hurling a few fireballs and setting half the neighborhood ablaze, Ronan felt a sense of satisfaction. The destruction was almost complete.

[This isn't fun anymore, can we go now?] his wolf complained irritably.

Ronan chuffed in response, preparing to leave, but his attention was caught by a soft thudding noise. He paused, scanning the area for the source of the sound.

Ronan's eyes narrowed as he spotted a small figure sprawled on the ground. She was a tiny wolf, far smaller than what he was accustomed to seeing. A runt, he thought. Her fiery red curls and round, innocent face stood out starkly against the chaos. Her scent, mingling with the other wolves' blood, revealed her lineage—the Alpha's blood ran through her veins.

He approached her slowly, savoring the moment. Towering over her, he transformed back into his human form. "Did you get lost, little runt?" he asked, his voice a dark rumble. He had no intention of killing her, at least not immediately. There was a perverse pleasure in toying with her.

She looked up at him, trembling. Her eyes were wide with fear, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the reality of her situation sank in. "I… I was just trying to leave."

"Leave?" Ronan's laughter boomed, causing her to flinch. He knelt down and cupped her face in his hand, his touch deliberate. "No one leaves here alive tonight."

As he touched her, something within him shifted. His insides grew warm, a strange sensation that contrasted sharply with the cold satisfaction he felt from the destruction around him. Her scent, sweet and enticing, made him feel uneasy. He hated sweetness, yet he couldn't bring himself to let her go.

The feeling grew stronger, almost overpowering. [MINE] his wolf growled possessively within him. Ronan couldn't deny it—despite the chaos, despite his instincts, he wanted her.

"Wh…who are you?" she whispered softly and Ronan's first impulse was to scoop her up in my arms. "Wa…wait. What are you doing?"

"You are coming with me," he said gruffly.

Ronan was burning inside, hotter than he had ever been before. His dick was hard and aching as he resisted the urge to bury it deep inside her.

Ronan felt her small hands grasp his bicep, her feeble attempt to push him away futile against his strength. She froze for a moment, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes. "Are you my mate?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. Her face contorted with disgust as she added, "No, it can't be. Not you. You are evil!"

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden insight. It seemed the runt was sharper than he had first thought.

Ronan wasn't interested in the concept of mates or soulmates. Love and such notions were foreign to him; his pleasure came from causing pain and reveling in the suffering of others. Yet, as he looked down at her, a strange sensation began to take root.

Despite his disdain for anything soft or sentimental, he knew one thing with certainty. He needed to possess her, and no one would take her from him. She was his, and he was determined to make her his own, no matter the cost.

~-~

Back at the pack house, Matthew paced back and forth. "He is gone," he said.

Valentina gave Matthew a puzzled look. "Who?"

After the fight with the Bloodmoon pack, everyone had gone their separate ways. Sunday dinner had been ruined, and the mood was far from festive. The damage to some of the buildings was extensive, and the cleanup was just beginning. The aftermath of the battle left them all in no mood to continue their evening as planned.

Matthew had regrouped with Minerva, Valentina, and Callan to discuss the day's events, but Ronan was noticeably absent. Normally, Matthew could sense his brother's presence nearby, but tonight, Ronan was nowhere to be found.

"Ronan. He left," Matthew said, a hint of concern in his voice. "Any idea where he might have gone?"

"Maybe he went back home to take a shower or something," Callan said dismissively.

Matthew's concern deepened. It was unusual for Ronan to disappear without any word, especially after such a significant confrontation.

"No, I was just there, and he isn't. He's not even inside our territory. I hope he didn't go after the enemy," Matthew said, his voice laced with worry.

Ronan's impulsive nature and violent outbursts were well-known, and the disappointment from their father, who had forbidden Ronan from killing some of the enemy wolves, had likely fueled his restlessness.

"How can you tell he left the territory?" Minerva asked, her curiosity evident.

"I know because I'm his twin. I can feel these things," Matthew explained, frustration creeping into his tone.

"I'm his triplet, and I don't feel anything!" Val laughed, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You're just not trying hard enough," Matthew mumbled. "We all have that bond. He can't go far without one of us knowing."

"And yet, he ditched you," Callan said with a smirk. "I'm sure he just wanted to blow off some steam. The poor guy is probably upset because he didn't get to set anything on fire today—except for your mother's table decorations."

Matthew's concern remained despite Callan's attempt at humor. The idea of Ronan venturing out alone after such a chaotic day made him uneasy, and the thought of his brother seeking vengeance or further trouble was not comforting.

Later that night, Matthew returned to the townhouse, noting that Ronan's side of the place was still dark and quiet. It seemed his brother hadn't returned yet.

"I'm going straight to sleep. All that fighting was just tiring," Valentina said, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion as she added, "And stop worrying about Ronan so much. He's not a kid."

"Yeah, well, if he didn't act like a hooligan, I wouldn't be so worried," Matthew retorted.

Valentina laughed and left, leaving Matthew to his thoughts. Shaking his head, he headed to his room to freshen up. The day's events had left him drained, and he planned to speak with his father about the situation in the morning.

Matthew heard the door slam late at night as he was trying to sleep. It must have been Ronan returning. He wanted to talk to him but hesitated, reluctant to get out of bed right away. It seemed better to wait until morning.

However, sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, his heart racing with an urgent need to see his brother. An inexplicable pull urged him to get up, and he could no longer ignore it.

Reluctantly, Matthew got out of bed and made his way to Ronan's room.

He wasn't sure what he planned to say or ask, but the need to speak with him felt overwhelming. He anticipated that Ronan would likely be irritated and tell him to go back to bed, making this visit seem pointless.

He knocked on the door. "Ronan? You in there?"

"What?" Ronan growled from the other side.

Matthew knocked again, his impatience growing. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Can it wait till morning? I had a long night," Ronan's voice came through the door, tired and irritated.

"Just open up for a bit, would you? This won't take long," Matthew insisted.

The door swung open abruptly, revealing Ronan in his usual pajamas, shirtless as he claimed he was always too hot. His annoyed expression was clear. "What is it?"

Matthew didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Where have you been?"

Ronan's eyes narrowed. "This is why you're bothering me right now? Are you trying to keep tabs on me?" he snarled.

Matthew tried to keep his tone steady. "Calm down. I was just wondering why you didn't come hang out with us. Minerva missed you."

Mentioning Minerva's name was usually enough to soften Ronan's hard exterior, as she had a way of getting on his good side. It made Matthew a little jealous, but he pushed that aside.

"I'll see Minerva in the morning," Ronan said dismissively, attempting to close the door. Matthew quickly grabbed it to stop him.

"Hold on a minute." Matthew paused, taking in Ronan's scent.

No…it wasn't exactly his scent. It was different.

There was something unusual about it—a sweet, floral aroma mixed with berries. It was almost intoxicating. The scent made him feel dizzy, a sensation he didn't understand.

Ronan looked at him, annoyed. "What is it, Mattie? You're starting to irritate me. You know I get grumpy when I don't get enough sleep."

"Just wait…you smell different." Matthew took another sniff, the alluring scent making him more uneasy. "Why does your scent smell so… sweet?"

Ronan chuckled, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. "You alright, Mattie? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Matthew jolted back, disturbed by his reaction. "Who was with you?" he demanded, trying to push through his confusion.

Ronan winced. "What are you talking about?"

"You were with someone. A female, right? Who is she? Where is she now?" Matthew's voice was sharp, driven by an inexplicable urge.

Ronan laughed, clearly amused by Matthew's reaction. "How did you know?"

"Who is she?" Matthew pressed again, feeling a strong pull inside him. It was disorienting, but one thing was clear.

His mate was nearby.